


Astral Beasts

by morninggloriious



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, daemon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6279295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morninggloriious/pseuds/morninggloriious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Queen has returned to Starling City a changed man.<br/>Daemon AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Changes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004958) by [Flight815Down](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flight815Down/pseuds/Flight815Down). 



“Oliver.”

Moira Queen’s son turned away from the window just as the daemon at his feet glanced up. Aksinya, a fox no more.

“Mom.”

The sound of his voice snapped her attention back from the grey wolf, and Moira stumbled forward just as he moved to meet her. “Oh,” she breathed. “My beautiful boy.” She felt fur brushing past her legs, knew her own arctic fox, Demyan, had moved to greet her son’s wolf.

Moira wrapped her arms around him, sobbed once, and buried her face in her son’s shoulder.

Nevermind his changed daemon, his scars, how severe his once-joyful face had become. Her son was home. That was all that mattered.

.

The Queen mansion now seemed almost obscene to Oliver, a monument to excess and undeserved privilege. He glanced down at Aksinya. She glared up at the building, and then looked to him. Oliver knew what she was thinking _\- do we really want to do this?_

Oliver didn’t know the answer, but it was the only option left to them now. It was too late to second guess himself.

He heard the chauffeur open the trunk of the car, and swiftly moved to intercept him, Aksinya sauntering in his wake. After a quick exchange with the driver, Oliver hoisted the box - painted with Chinese symbols and filled with everything he needed to begin his crusade - and let Moira and Demyan herd them into the castle.

“Your room is exactly like you left it,” Moira said as she opened the double doors. “Never had the heart to change a thing.”

The foyer itself had not changed in his long absence, Oliver noted as he set down the crate; there was still the table covered in family pictures, the grand staircases, the quiet opulence. Even though he had fond memories of the place, it no longer appealed to him, not after years of living in squalor.

“Oliver!”

A bald, dark skinned man strode toward Oliver, a badger loping after him. “It’s damn good to see you,” he said fervently in a British accent. The badger squeaked in agreement, her nostrils twitching. Beside the stranger, Moira smiled.

After a beat, the stranger seemed to realize that Oliver didn’t know him. “It’s Walter,” he murmured, looking at him in surprise. “Walter Steele?”

“You remember Walter, your father’s friend from the company,” Moira said, slipping an arm around Oliver’s shoulders. Below them, Demyan pressed himself into Aksinya’s side. The badger squeaked again.

Oliver did not, in fact, remember Walter, his father’s friend from the company, but he had spotted someone much more important, so he let the matter drop. Slipping past Walter, who was watching him carefully - “It’s Alis,” he heard the badger inform Aksinya - he moved across the room, toward the maid in the grey uniform, standing beside a Scottish terrier daemon. “It’s good to see you, Raisa.”

“Welcome home, Mr. Oliver,” she beamed up at him. Beside her, the terrier’s tail wagged madly and did not waver as Aksinya stepped forward. Raisa had always seen the best in him, even when he had done nothing to deserve her kindness. It shouldn’t have surprised Oliver that she and her daemon would not care about Aksinya’s transformation.

Where Aksinya used to be small and lithe as a fox, the wolf was huge, taller than Oliver’s waist. Thick monochrome fur had replaced her sleek red-orange coat, and she padded silently through the room on huge paws, rather than the dainty feet she used to have.

It was a jarring difference, to say the least. And _Raisa_ didn’t care.

Raisa tore her eyes away from him to his mother, who had followed him across the room. “Mr. Merlyn called. He wants to join you for dinner.”

“Wonderful,” Moira said graciously. Above, a door opened and shut, and Oliver glanced upward. Aksinya shivered and trotted toward the stairs, and Oliver moved after her, distantly aware of his mother’s voice behind him.

They stopped at the foot of the staircase just as a teenage girl bounded into view. Not giving himself time to hesitate at the sight of the fox peering out from behind her legs, Oliver spoke: “Hey, sis.”

Thea paused, only for a moment, and sped down the stairs with a cry of “I knew it! I knew you were alive!” and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, Oliver’s own arms coming up to support her. “I missed you so much,” she murmured. He watched Aksinya crouch slightly to look the fox, Hadyn, in the eye.

“You were with me the whole time,” he whispered back.

Hadyn, an exact copy of Aksinya’s former self, licked her nose. Asinya let out a long sigh, and relaxed as Hadyn pressed his face into her fur.

They were home.

.

“Come on Laurel, we’re lawyers, not miracle workers. We can’t win this!”

Johanna’s meerkat grunted up at them in agreement.

Laurel didn’t look up from her mail. “If we can’t win a class action suit against a man who swindled hundreds of people out of their homes and life savings, then we’re not fit to call ourselves a legal aid office.” The small falcon on her shoulder casually preened his black feathers.

She strode forward, as Johanna scrambled to catch up, Sango in her wake. “And if we go bankrupt in the process, we won’t be a legal aid office. Hunt has an army of lawyers and they’re ready to bury us.”

Laurel at last stopped and looked up from her mail. “You and I against an army. I love those odds.” The falcon on her shoulder flapped his wings, but did not take flight.

Johanna crossed her arms, glaring after Laurel as she began to move again. “Why do you hate me?”

Laurel didn’t respond. With a sigh, Johanna at last moved away, Sango scurrying ahead of her.

Laurel sighed and sat back in her chair. Mikolas fluttered upward to rest on the cork board beside her as she stared at it.

Adam Hunt.

Damn him.

Knowing her thoughts, Mikolas said softly, “We’ll get him, Laurel. We always do.”

“I know,” she murmured back. “It’s just how that bugs me.”

Lost in thought, she gazed at the pinned pictures and newspaper clippings until a new voice registered. _“… details of the castaway story you’ve all heard about, the son of a very wealthy billionaire will soon become a legendary story. Jessica now has more details and the complete castaway story.”_

Laurel rose from her chair in time to see a well-groomed Asian woman appear onscreen, daemon out of sight. Laurel’s feet moved of their own volition. “The Queen’s Gambit _was last heard from more than five years ago. Mr. Queen has reportedly confirmed that he was the only survivor of the accident that took the lives of seven people, including local resident Sara Lance, survived by her sister Laure-”_

Laurel groped for the TV remote, smashing the power button down just as the reporter said her name. The rest of the office turned to stare at her, and she dropped the control like it’d burned her.

Oliver was alive.

And Sara wasn’t.

Mikolas let out a small, sad scream as he alighted on her shoulder.

.

“Okay, what else did you miss? Super Bowl winners - Giants, Steelers, Saints, Packers, Giants again. Uh, black president, that’s new. Oh, and Lost? They were all dead. I think.”

Tommy Merlyn was exactly the same, youthful and unaware, a Capuchin clinging to his left arm as they chattered through dinner. Every now and then, Ulani would jump down from Tommy’s arm to dart over to Aksinya and Hadyn, who were sitting in a jumble between Oliver and Thea, and gently press down on the wolf’s head, pleased to have her friend back, but unwilling to leave Tommy’s side for longer than necessary. The two had always been close, closer than Oliver and his own Aksinya, and Tommy had once told him it was only during sex that Ulani willingly moved away from him.

Oliver was both pleased that something had remained the same while he was gone, and annoyed at how Tommy hadn’t realized how stupid they’d been, with their parties and booze and naivety.

But Tommy was his friend, and he could tell Aksinya was pleased to have friends again, especially Hadyn, who she had doted on before they’d been stranded. Everyone was a little startled when they saw Aksinya, who had gone from a small, mischievous red fox to a large, scowling wolf, but so far his friends and family were willing to overlook her change in favor of celebrating his return from the dead.

No one had asked about what had happened.

“What was it like there?”

Until Thea, that is.

The table quieted, Tommy’s smile slipping off his face as Walter looked up sharply from his plate. Moira chewed slowly, and studied him. He saw a flash of white, knew Demyan was making his way toward his children.

Oliver considered for a moment, and said the only thing that would not give his baby sister nightmares: “Cold.”

Tommy hastened to change the subject. “Tomorrow,” he said, pointing his fork at Oliver. Ulani hurled herself off his arm to ruffle Aksinya’s ears. “You and me, we’re doing the city. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Moira put in.

“Good. Then I was hoping to swing by the office.”

Walter Steele put down his drink, though he hadn’t taken a sip. “Well, there’s a better time for all that. Queen Consolidated isn’t going anywhere.”

Behind Oliver, Raisa stumbled into him, almost upending an ornamental basket of pears into his lap. The terrier barked in surprise. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Oliver,” Raisa murmured, righting herself, and before Oliver could stop himself, he blurted out his forgiveness in Russian.

_Idiot._ He could feel Aksinya glaring at him.

Raisa stared at him incredulously. Tommy was the first to recover. “Dude. You speak Russian?” Ulani, still crouching beside Aksinya, poked the wolf’s side accusingly.

Walter saved him. “I didn’t realize you took Russian in college, Oliver.”

Oliver distracted him with the first, and most obvious, thing that came to mind. “I didn’t realize you wanted to sleep with my mother, Walter.”

The table was silent as Oliver stared Walter down.

It was Thea broke the tension, sighing, “I didn’t say anything.”

Oliver’s attention switched from Walter to his mother, lowering his voice. “She didn’t have to.”

Moira nodded, and after a moment’s hesitation, she reached for Walter’s hand. “Oliver. Walter and I are married. And I don’t want you to think that either one of us did anything to disrespect your father.”

Her husband came to her aid. “We both believed that Robert, like you, was uh … gone.”

“It’s fine.”

_It wasn’t._

He gazed down the table at his mother and wondered how much of her marriage to his father had been a lie. If they’d ever really even liked each other.

Oliver stood, and Aksinya stood with him, dislodging Hadyn and Demyan, and stalking past Ulani to stand beside him.

“May I be excused?” He felt like a little boy.

After a beat, his mother nodded. He snatched up an apple and moved toward the door, clasping hands with Tommy (“Hey, don’t forget about tomorrow, buddy.”) and winking at Thea as he went. Aksinya moved ahead of him, evidently impatient to be alone with her human.

Demyan followed them to the door, but stayed behind as they left the sanctuary of the dining room. Ulani chittered nervously.

.

_“One, two, three… It’s getting closer.”_

Oliver remembered Sara. He could never forget her.

He remembered how Mochni twittered around her head as she talked, before settling down between Aksinya’s ears. He remembered her kisses, the taste of white wine on her lips. Her worry over Laurel; Mochni had flapped his wings, agitated, whenever Sara brought up her sister. Her giggles, as he’d pressed her down onto the mattress.

_“Okay, that one was really close.”_

Her screams, as she was sucked down, down, down, into the briny deep.

The canary never flew again.

.

Oliver came awake, suddenly, and twisted, flipping his attacker and putting his hand to their throat. He could feel Aksinya flying to consciousness, hear her snarl, a deep, wild sound, from the bed he could not use.

“Oliver!”

Walter- his mother.

He scrambled away from Moira, Aksinya’s defensive posture collapsing into a submissive slouch as Demyan and Alis scrambled to his mother’s side. Thunder boomed outside; Oliver felt the sound vibrate through his core. Goosebumps rose on his rain spattered arms. 

“I’m sorry- I’m so, sorry.” Walter helped her to her feet, and she croaked, “It’s okay, Oliver.” She sunk to her knees, Walter still clinging to her shoulders. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re home.

You’re home.”

Lightning flashed. Aksinya had vanished.


	2. Pilot ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> second half of the pilot episode.

The next morning, there was a chill in the air, despite the sun beaming in through the windows. After his restless night, Oliver rose early and dressed himself in a clean grey t shirt and pair of jeans he found in his closet; his old clothes didn’t fit, and he guessed his mother had had someone buy new ones. Thankfully, they weren’t as expensive or pretentious as he used to dress.

Aksinya, tail swishing back and forth over the duvet, watched from the bed as Oliver retrieved his trunk from underneath. He quickly spun the combination lock and opened the box to reveal a small book atop a tattered tarp.

Oliver picked up the journal and studied it for a moment before putting it aside. As he sorted through the rest of the crate, Aksinya spoke: “I’m sorry about last night.”

When he looked up at her, quizzical, she elaborated, “About leaving. I should have stayed.”

“It’s okay. I know you have a hard time, being different.”

Aksinya rested her head on her front paws. “It’s not okay. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“You protect me fine. Most people take one look at you and leave me the hell alone.”

“Being intimidating is not the same as protecting. It’s why I don’t like this plan of yours: I won’t be able to stay with you.”

“You’re too recognizable, ‘Sinya.”

She was silent for a moment, before saying, “You should give Thea that hōzen thing. It’s not like we need it anymore.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll do that.”

.

Percocet was amazing.

Thea floated through her room, her whole body feeling light and airy in the afternoon sun pouring in through her windows. Hadyn pranced around her ankles, tail twitching; he disapproved of her . . . extracurriculars, but he couldn’t help but succumb to the effects of the drug.

Thea stumbled through the fog to the desk where Margo was lining up the crushed pills. Giggling, she asked, “Where did you get these?”

“Roxie’s.” Smirking, Margo examined the bottle. Her brown hare daemon was spread out on the floor beside her, an unnatural pose for an oversized rabbit. “Thank you, Daddy’s ACL tear.”

A knock came at the door, and the girls rushed to cover the drugs, hastily straightening their rumpled school uniforms as Oliver came in. Aksinya trotted in behind him and rushed over to Hadyn’s side, sniffing at his fur.

“Ollie!” Thea turned toward him, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell how stoned she was. With his record, it was likely he wouldn’t care, but she could never be sure; he seemed less, well, fun, now than he was back, and she didn’t know if his long nights on the town had ever extended to drugs.

He smiled at her as he moved across the room toward the desk. “No one’s called me that in a while, Speedy.”

Thea winced, crossing her arms. “Worst nickname. Ever.”

“What, always chasing after me as a kid, I thought it fit pretty well.” His eyes strayed to the desk, where Margo stood, clutching her bag. “Maybe it still does.”

Before Thea could process that particular comment, Margo brushed past her, murmuring a cheerful “See you at school, Speedy.” The hare hopped after her, giving Aksinya a wide berth.

“Sorry about her.”

Oliver seemed to take it in stride, and he continued. “I have something for you.” He held out a silver-grey stone.

“You did not come back from a deserted island with souvenirs.”

Oliver smirked. “It’s a hōzen. In Buddhism it symbolizes reconnecting. I kept it in hopes that one day it would reconnect me with you.”

Thea’s high rose until she was orbiting the moon. Her brother was _back_. He was _alive_. And he _still_ loved her. She knew she was smiling like a lunatic, couldn’t help it. She glanced around to see Hadyn, winding his way around Aksinya’s huge legs, chirping happily. Thea took the hōzen from him, holding it reverently. On closer inspection, it was an arrowhead, painted with characters she thought were Japanese.

“A rock, that is- sweet!” A familiar voice drifted into the room. Oliver’s smile grew as Tommy appeared beside them. “I want one of those t shirts that says ‘my friend was a castaway and all I got was this crappy shirt.’” Tommy looked between them, grinning broadly, and Ulani chittered from where she was hanging onto his belt, copying Tommy’s movements.

Thea closed her eyes against the joke, before opening them again to focus on her brother. “Don’t let him get you into too much trouble. You just got back. Take it slow.”

Oliver nodded, leaning in to kiss her forehead, and looped his arms around her for a hug. Thea closed her eyes, relishing his presence.

They broke apart as Tommy cleared his throat. “The city awaits.”

Oliver nodded again, turning toward the door and leaving without another word. Aksinya stepped over Hadyn and moved in his wake, as did Tommy, who shot her an appraising glance over his shoulder.

The door closed behind him, and Thea sighed, collapsing onto her couch. Hadyn jumped up beside her and rested his head on her chest. “You think they noticed?”

“Maybe. I dunno.”

A moment passed before the daemon spoke again. “This was too close, Thea. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Thea groaned. “Oh, don’t lecture me. Let me ride this out.”

“Aksinya smelled my fur, if we don’t stop now, we’re going to get into-”

“Aksinya doesn’t have that great a sense of smell.”

“She’s a wolf now, Thea. Who knows what else changed about her.”

That was the trillion dollar question.

.

In the Mercedes, music blared from his speakers as Tommy Merlyn grinned at his friend, purposefully ignoring the homeless outside of his window. “So what’d you miss the most, steaks at the Palm, drinks at the Station, meaningless sex . . .?”

“Laurel.” The man hadn’t even hesitated before he answered.

Tommy felt his smile vanish from his face into places unknown, but couldn’t do anything to stop the pit that suddenly yawned in his stomach. In the backseat, Ulani visibly wilted as Aksinya looked on, impassive. “Everyone is happy you’re alive. You wanna see the one person who isn’t?”

Oliver shrugged.

Tommy had a really, really bad feeling about this.

(Oh, he hoped Laurel didn’t tell him about their- relationship. Whatever it was.)

.

Laurel looked around as Johanna called her name. Her friend appeared behind her, tugging her away from the paralegal, and handed Laurel a sheath of papers. “Just got this from Hunt’s lawyers. They filed a change of venue, we are now in front of Judge Growl.”

Understanding flashed through Laurel, and Mikolas gave an outraged screech from her shoulder. “Hunt funded Growl’s reelection campaign.” She handed the folder back to Johanna, who hummed an affirmative. “He’s got Growl in his back pocket.”

“Wow, it’s fun being your friend, I get to say ‘I told you so’ a lot.” Sango scampered in their wake.

“Jo, Adam Hunt is not smarter than we are.” Mikolas took off to flit around the vents above them.

“No, just richer and willing to commit multiple felonies.”

“‘We don’t need to go outside the law-’”

“‘To find justice.’ Your dad’s favorite jingle.”

Smiling, Laurel turned toward her desk, and froze.

Oliver Queen.

He was here, and he had cheated on Laurel with her sister, getting her sister killed in the process. And he was here. At CNRI.

Oh God, he was handsome.

Her eyes darted downward, looking for the fox that had dogged Oliver’s footsteps for as long as she had known him. Laurel’s eyes widened when she found a wolf instead. A huge wolf, sitting patiently at Oliver’s feet, watching Mikolas circle above her with weary eyes.

That hadn’t been in the news.

After a moment of shocked silence, Oliver spoke, calmly and softly, like he _didn’t_ used to. “Hello, Laurel.”

His expression turned from quiet pleasure to almost nauseous anxiety as he watched her jovial expression fade. “Can we talk?” he asked, gesturing to the window.

Mutely, she nodded, and moved toward the door, Mikolas touching down on her shoulder. She didn’t check to see if Oliver followed her. With his wolf daemon.

God, what had _happened_? To make a daemon change like that?

As she ducked out the door to CNRI, she passed Tommy, hovering outside. He glanced up at her, but didn’t say anything, staring down at his too nice shoes. Ulani clung to his arm, her face buried in the brown leather of his jacket.

Bastard. He should have warned her. About Oliver’s return, about Aksinya, about all of it.

She hit the sidewalk, wandering out into the shoppers and walkers who littered the small square. Mikolas took off again to soar above her.

Oliver moved so he walked beside her, and her hands clenched. He shouldn’t be here. He should be dead, where Laurel didn’t have to deal with him and the emotions he conjured in her. Anger, sadness, joy. Wistfulness, at what could have been if he done something so _stupid_.

After a few steps, Oliver finally broke the terse silence between them. “You went to law school.”

When she didn’t reply, he plowed on. “You said you would.”

“Yeah, everyone’s proud.”

“Adam Hunt’s a heavy hitter, you sure you want to get in the ring with him?”

Five years, and he wants to talk about Adam Hunt? She said as much.

Oliver shook his head. “No. Not really.”

But he didn’t elaborate. On his other side, Aksinya strode in sync with him, looking straight ahead, ignoring both her and Mikolas. Before, she had been just as involved in conversation as Oliver was, chirping her glee and weaving between everyone’s feet, generally causing as much trouble as possible. It had been both annoying and endearing that Oliver’s soul was so mischievous, but now she was anything but.

Laurel stopped, suddenly exhausted. “Why are you here, Ollie?”

Oliver stopped too, and turned to face her. “To apologize. It was my fault.”

Well, she knew that, but Laurel had never expected him to admit it.

“I wanted to ask you not to blame her.”

At last, Laurel found her voice. “For what? Falling under your spell? How could I possibly blame her for the same thing that I did?”

“I never meant-”

But after she had found her words, she wouldn’t stop. “She was my sister. I couldn’t be angry because she was dead. I couldn’t grieve because I was so angry, that’s what happens when your sister dies while screwing your boyfriend.”

Oliver stared down at his shoes.

“We buried an empty coffin.” Laurel swallowed, a lump in her throat. “‘Cause her body was at the bottom of the ocean, where _you_ left her.

It should have been you.”

Oliver watched Mikolas circle above them, and when he spoke, it was thick with sadness. “I know that it’s too late to say this, but I’m sorry.”

Tears threatened, and she knew she had to leave before she broke down completely and did something stupid. “Yeah, I’m sorry too. I’d hoped that you’d rot in hell a whole lot longer than five years.”

With that, she turned back on her heel, speeding back toward the safety of CNRI, Mikolas flying down to meet her. As she reached the entrance, she snapped out a “How’d you think that was gonna go, Tommy?” at him.

She didn’t hear his reply. She sped into the blessedly empty bathroom, locked the door behind her, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The only trace of the exchange was her eyes, big and watery, lined with red. She closed her eyes, and _breathed_. She felt Mikolas flutter down to the counter, knew he was waiting for her to open her eyes.

She didn’t. “You think I should forgive him.”

“Not exactly. But you didn’t have to throw all the blame on him like that. He’s lost people too.”

“Yes, I did.”

Laurel still didn’t open her eyes.

.

Oliver hit the car, his thoughts already drowsy as the masked gunmen surrounded him, weapons drawn. This was strange. Not altogether unexpected, but he hadn’t anticipated someone attacking Oliver Queen so soon after he returned.

Aksinya drooped to the floor, struggling to maintain her snarl as the drugs from the blowdart kicked in, circling into Oliver’s bloodstream.

But he was still awake when a cook slammed open the door above, shouted down at his attackers.

When one turned and killed him, not even pausing long enough to watch his body fall.

.

The masked man’s voice was raspy, muted by the devil’s face over his own. “Did your father survive that accident?”

Oliver blinked, staring at the other figures lurking in the darkness around him. Focus. He needed to focus.

He didn’t see Tommy, but felt Aksinya close, angry and disoriented, knew they would use her as a bargaining chip. He couldn’t see his attackers’ daemons; probably rats or snakes, something small and easily hidden.

The lead executioner continued: “I ask the questions, you give me the answers.”

Oliver’s fists clenched against the zipties. Oh, he was so sick of being tortured.

When Oliver didn’t answer, didn’t beg for mercy and promise _yes, yes, whatever you need, just don’t hurt us_ , the masked man turned to his companions and shrugged.

And tased him.

Oliver yelled; he’d never been electrocuted before. This was a new pain, flickering throughout his entire body at once, instead of the small, concentrated slices others had made in his body. His fingers stuttered around his ties.

When the taser was removed, Oliver gasped, spitting and hissing in pain.

The questioner got in his face, plastic teeth bared. “Did he make it to the island? Did he tell you anything?”

He only gave Oliver a second to answer before pressing the taser to his sweater, the electricity searing through it, hitting each and every nerve ending.

Oliver groaned and spat as the pain released him. Panting, he let his head fall forward onto his chest, and choked out, “Yes, he did.” He regained control over his fingers.

The masked man nodded, satisfied. “What did he tell you, Mr. Queen?”

Oliver breathed out; watched the mist in the cold air. He could see Tommy now, passed out in the shadows, mouth open in slumber. They had taken Ulani from him.

Oliver let the anger return, let himself become what he needed to to survive. “He told me I’m gonna kill you.”

The executioner laughed, his companions joining in. “You’re delusional. You’re zip cuffed to that chair.”

Oliver lifted his hands, free of their bonds. “Not anymore.”

After only a millisecond of surprise, the masked man moved to tase him, but Oliver bent forward, picking up the wooden chair and using it as a shield before bashing it into him. The first man fell back; another quickly took his place, swinging another sparking taser. Oliver snatched it from him, driving it into the man’s neck, before slinging an arm around his neck and holding him still, blocking the rain of bullets from another assailant.

The bullets stopped, and Oliver dropped the man’s body, lunging forward after the shooter, who turned and ran.

Oliver paused by Tommy’s prostrate form, checking his pulse. Steady. Good. He took off again.

He followed the shooter through another door, scattering the plastic hangings, and dodging away as more bullets came, darting up a set of stairs and onto the floor above, moving upwards toward the roof. That was where the shooter would run; a man with an AK-47 and a devil’s mask was too conspicuous on the ground.

It didn’t take long to hunt him down. It was pitifully easy to grab him, hold him. “You killed that man.”

The shooter scrabbled at Oliver’s sweater. “You don’t have to do this.” A desperate plea for his life.

“Yes, I do. Nobody can know my secret.”

The shooter’s neck snapped, his body slumped to the floor. Oliver panted, drowning in the death around him.

.

(In the original warehouse, he found Tommy sitting blearily upright, struggling to keep his eyes open. Adrenalin had pumped the drugs from Oliver’s system, but Tommy was still suffering the effects. After making sure he was okay, he found Aksinya locked in a closet, Ulani trapped in a cloth bag beside her. The moment she was freed, Ulani rushed to Tommy’s side, peppering him with kisses and gripping his chin, although she herself was clearly struggling to coherency.

Aksinya pressed herself into Oliver’s side, murmuring softly so Tommy and Ulani couldn’t hear, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Oliver ran a hand down her fur, marveling, as always, at how it went from pitch black to a dusty grey, fading into her white underbelly.

“I know.”)

.

Detective Quentin Lance had never liked Oliver Queen. The little punk had dated his daughter, hadn’t treated her right. A spoiled brat.

But now he hated Oliver Queen.

He had broken one daughter’s heart, and killed the other.

And the prick didn’t even seem to regret it, his shit-eating smirk ever present throughout the debriefing.

The wolf, though. That was new. While Queen had smirked, she stared forward at his side, ignoring everyone. Probably didn’t even notice Katlego’s glare.

As a fox, Queen’s daemon had _always_ noticed Katlego, had always been aware of the honey badger’s bared teeth. Both Queen and Merlyn had given her a wide berth at all times.

But five years later, in Moira Queen’s well lit, tastefully decorated living room, Queen and his daemon could care less about his Katlego.

“So that your story,” said Lance. “A guy in a green hood flew in and single handedly took out three armed kidnappers?”

Queen glared at him, looking annoyed that Lance hadn’t taken his story at face value.

“I mean, who is he?” Lance pressed, looking around at Moira Queen and Walter Steele, who sat across from Merlyn and Queen. “Why would he do that?”

“I dunno,” Queen said shortly. “Find him and you can ask.”

Lance nodded, unimpressed. “What about you?” he asked Merlyn. He picked up the drawing of their “savior.” “You see the hood guy?”

“I saw-” Merlyn murmured. He looked more disconcerted than Queen did, his hand stroking the fur of his daemon. “Just movement. Everything blurry, I was kind of out of it.”

“Yeah. It’s funny, isn’t it, one day back and already somebody’s gunning for you.” He stared Queen down, who looked down at his daemon, avoiding Lance’s stare. “Aren’t you popular.”

“Were you able to identify the men?” Moira Queen broke in.

“Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons,” answered Lance’s partner Hilton, from where he stood beside the Queens’ maid. “These were pros.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed. “Well, they probably figured you’d pay a king’s ransom to get your boy back. Or a Queen’s ransom, as it were.”

Moira Queen rolled her eyes, and Lance smiled softly. Sue him, he was a dad.

Motion around the table momentarily distracted him. Mrs. Queen’s daemon, a small arctic fox, circled the table to sit down beside Queen’s wolf, haughtily ignoring Katlego. The wolf glanced down at the fox for only a second before returning her gaze to the wall in front of her.

“After all,” Lance continued, raising his stare from the daemons to Queen. “A parent would do anything to keep their child safe.”

“I don’t care for your tone, Detective,” Mrs. Queen interjected. Her husband rose, saying, “If Oliver can think of anything else, he’ll be in touch. Thank you, gentlemen, for coming.”

Lance snorted at the obvious dismissal, and gathered his papers. As he stood, Queen stood with him, and Lance looked him in the eye. “You luck never seems to run out, does it.”

Queen stared back, the smirk finally and completely gone from his face.

The maid showed them out, her little terrier trotting cheerfully in her wake. Katlego snarled softly at the wolf as they left; Hilson’s German shepherd daemon frowned at her, but said nothing.

.

Oliver stared at the picture of Adam Hunt on his computer screen, the picture grainy, but Hunt’s ferret daemon clearly visible on his shoulders. Aksinya rested her head on the desk to look. “He looks smarmy,” she murmured.

“Yeah, he does,” Oliver agreed. “I think I’ll try to get him tomorrow night. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the warehouse, get that ready.”

“Like Batman.”

“Eh, kinda.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Aksinya’s paws pounded the carpet, dancing happily as she argued with Oliver.

“Oh, come on, you’re one to talk, with that infinity stare.”

“Some one has to look the part. But I heard you, with that ‘he told me I’m gonna kill you’ line. _So_ overdone.”

Oliver grinned. “You got me there.” He glanced back at his computer screen and frowned, levity gone. He flipped through his father’s journal, finding Adam Hunt’s name written in Robert Queen’s familiar scrawl.

“You are different,” came a voice from the doorway. “Not like you to read a book.”

Oliver looked up to see Raisa, smiling at him and holding a dinner tray.

Oliver tapped the keyboard, banishing Hunt’s picture, and sat back in his chair. “I missed you, Raisa.”

“No kitchen on the island,” she said with a nod.

Oliver chuckled. “No.” He gave a small sigh. “No friends, either. Hey,” he stood, looking down at the tray in her arms. “Thank you.” He took it gently from her, put it down a chest by the bed, where Aksinya sniffed at it and stole a french fry. Oliver watched her for a moment, then turned back to Raisa. “Do I really seem different?”

“No,” She answered immediately. “You’re still a good boy.”

“Oh, we both know I wasn’t.”

“But a good heart,” she insisted, pressing her hand to his chest.

“I hope so,” Oliver admitted. Raisa nodded, satisfied, and removed her hand. He continued, “I want to be the person you always told me I could be.”

She smiled up at him. At her feet, the terrier wagged his tail. Aksinya watched from the bed, pleased.

.

John Diggle had a new assignment.

It came fast; his new boss had wanted him there the next morning.

But it payed well, and you don’t refuse Moira Queen. Even John knew that.

Outside the Queen mansion, birds twittered and sang in the early morning, and he stood outside the front steps, speaking to Moira Queen and her husband.

Mrs. Queen seemed kind, if a little detached, and Walter Steele seemed almost a kindred spirit, though he let his wife do most of the talking.

“Now, Oliver has been _away_ , for a long time, so he might want to go to some unseemly places,” Mrs. Queen dictated. “Let him, but keep an eye on him. Just make sure he doesn’t get himself hurt, or let anyone else kidnap him.” Her fox paced anxiously around her legs.   
That goes without saying, but John didn’t object. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Moira,” interjected Steele. “He knows what he’s doing.” In contrast, his badger sat patiently by his side.

Mrs. Queen nodded. “I- yes, you’re right. I’m sorry, Mr. Diggle. I just want my son to be safe.”

John smiled at her. “That’s quite alright, ma’am. I understand.”

She smiled back, pleased. Behind her, the front door open and shut, and a young man came into view, a wolf trotting behind him. The infamous Oliver Queen.

Mrs. Queen turned toward him, calling his name. She hurried toward him, the fox scrambling in her wake. Steele and his badger followed.

John took a few steps forward, not so that he was in the conversation, but enough that he was within earshot.

“I want to introduce you to someone,” said Mrs. Queen. “John Diggle. He’ll be accompanying you from now on.”

Queen looked between his mother and step-father, confused and maybe a little embarrassed. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Darling,” said Steele. “Oliver’s a grown man, and if he doesn’t feel he needs our protection-”

“I understand,” interrupted his wife. Her voice dropped, and John could barely hear her say, “This is something I need.”

Queen glanced around at John, and he understood. For his mother, Queen would do this.

.

Queen gave him the address of Tommy Merlyn’s mansion, and John slid into the driver’s seat, Orsina in the passenger’s, Queen and his daemon in the back.

Orsina was a black bear, with white markings on her chest. John had done some research; the species was native to Asia, and more aggressive than the American black bear.

Silence reigned as John drove into town; Queen seemed disinclined to talk to him. John was sympathetic; it would be annoying to have a bodyguard foisted on you after years of solitude, and you wanted to get . . . reacquainted with Starling City.

“So,” said Queen. He seemed slightly bemused that he was having a conversation with his _bodyguard_. “What do I call you?”

“Diggle’s good,” John answered. “Dig, if you want.”

“You’re ex military.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes sir, 105th Airborne out of Kandahar.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Queen nod. His wolf was stock still beside him. “Retired. Been in the private sector a little more than four years now.” John swallowed and glanced at Orsina before continuing. “I don’t want there to be confusion, Mr. Queen. My ability to keep you from harm will outweigh your comfort.”

Silence.

“Do we have an agreement?”

Still no answer.

“Sir?”

The back door opened and shut, and when John glanced back, both Queen and his daemon had vanished. “Sir!”

Car horns blared behind him as he slammed down the brake, the tires squealing as the car halted. John scrambled out of the car and opened the back door, staring in disbelief. He looked up and down the street. Both had disappeared.

He looked around at Orsina, who was blinking from the passenger seat. “Did you see that?”

“Uh. No.”

John rolled his eyes. “Of course not. What do we do now?”

The bear stared down at her claws. “Look for him, I guess. Then we take the car back and hope nobody notices?”

John grunted. “I’ll have to notify Mrs. Queen.”

This was not going to be fun.

.

Besides Oliver’s return, the media’s favorite story was Laurel’s legal battle against Hunt.

But the press only knew half of it. According to Robert Queen, Hunt’s crimes ran deeper. Much deeper.

Oliver had work to do.

.

The party had been in full swing long before Oliver arrived, Aksinya in tow. Dancers in matching skimpy black outfits danced on platforms on one end of the dance floor; opposite them, a DJ manned the music. Wait staff orbited through the dancing crowd, distributing drinks and hors d'oeuvres (mostly drinks). Blue lights barely illuminated the circling bird daemons, the grounded animals mixed in with their humans.

Oliver and Aksinya crested the stairs that descended from the second floor. Oliver knew Diggle was close by; his escape hadn’t been personal, he just couldn’t be a vigilante with a bodyguard. He could see Tommy, glass in hand, Ulani standing on his shoulder, and, of course, surrounded by women. As he walked, Oliver checked in phone; just under an hour until Hunt hit his deadline.

Hunt wouldn’t go down easy; he had seen the challenge in his, the disbelief that this _lunatic_ had disrupted his successful life. The ferret in Hunt’s pocket had even tried to bite Oliver’s hand.

Below, Tommy caught his eye, and motioned to the DJ to stop the music. He darted up the stairs toward Oliver, the Capuchin clinging to his shoulder for dear life.

“Hey hey hey, everybody,” Tommy clapped his hands, grabbing the attention of the crowd. As Oliver reached him, Tommy clasped his shoulder and thumped his chest with his other hand. “Man of the HOUR!” The crowd screamed in response, raising their glasses to Oliver. Oliver managed a smile, trying his best to channel the party boy who had died all those years ago.

“Whoo! And ladies, please,” Tommy continued. “Give this man a proper homecoming!”

Oliver, grinning now, wandered through the whistling and applauding crowd to the DJ’s platform as “We are the Champions” played. “Thank you very much, everybody!” Blue lights flashed. It surprised him, how boyish and obnoxious his voice sounded. Had he been this bad before the crash?

Oh well. He could think about that later.

“Ollie, Ollieollieollie!” Tommy handed him a shot from below. Oliver drank it down, felt the burn in his throat, and shouted, “I missed tequila!”  
The crowd roared.

Beside Tommy, Aksinya stared quizzically up at him, as if she too was realizing just how much they had changed while Starling remained stagnant. They had realized they’d become more serious, a warrior, and that the partying had been so, so stupid, But to be forced back into that role was completely different; he almost felt nauseous with the frivolity of it all.

As Oliver lept down from the platform, Ulani jumped down from Tommy’s shoulder onto the wolf’s back, and Aksinya looked around wildly before she realized who was on her back. Tommy grinned down at them, and Oliver forced himself to smile too. Aksinya would bear the interloper, but would not like it; they were both still getting used to extended contact with others.

Tommy took up his place by Oliver’s side, gesturing toward Diggle, who lurked at the edge of the crowd, his bear daemon crouching beside him. “Does he wipe for you too?”

Oliver didn’t answer, still staring down the bodyguard.

“Now,” Tommy persisted. “By my rough estimate, you have not had sex in 1,839 days. As your wingman-” here, he grabbed Oliver’s shoulders and turned him toward a group of women dancing atop the platform he had just vacated “-I highly recommend Carmen Goldman.”

“Which one is she?”

“The one who looks like the chick from _Twilight_.”

“What’s _Twilight_?”

“You’re so better off not knowing.”

Oliver shook his head, puzzled. As he did, he found Thea in the crowd.

As he watched, an older man with hair slicked back into a bun slipped her a packet of familiar white powder. The dealer moved past her, on to his other customers, and she casually dropped it into her purse.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Oliver moved toward her, Aksinya at his heels. Ulani squeaked at her sudden separation from Tommy and lept off her.

“Ollie! Hey-” Oliver grabbed her arm and tugged her away from Margo and her other friends, Aksinya darting in and similarly herding Hadyn out of the throng.

“This party is sick-”

“Who let you in here?”

“I- I believe it was somebody who said, ‘Right this way, Miss Queen.’” She giggled, eyes twinkling with artificial happiness.

“Well, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Uh,” Thea frowned up at him, her smile dead. “I’m not twelve anymore.”

“No, you’re seventeen.”

She stared at him for a moment, before saying with a shake of her head, “Ollie, I- I love you, but you can’t come back here and _judge_ me. E- especially for being just like you!”

“I know that it couldn’t have been easy for you while I was- away-”

“‘Away?’” Thea said with an incredulous laugh. At their feet, Hadyn slunk away from Aksinya, the fur on the back of his neck puffed up. “No, you died. My brother and my father _died_.”

When Oliver didn’t respond, she persisted, “I went to your funerals.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. Mom had Walter and I had no one. You guys all act like it’s cool, let’s forget about the last five years. Well, I can’t. For me it’s kind of permanently in there, so I’m sorry if I turned out some major disappointment-” Oliver ducked his head, but she followed, forcing him to meet her gaze “-but this? Me? The best I could do with what I had to work with.”

She backed away from him, glancing down at Hadyn. “Let’s bounce.” She stalked away, back to Margo and her other intoxicated friends.

When she was gone, Aksinya gave a short snarl. “Did you get it?”

“Yeah.”

Together, they found a trash can, and dumped the drugs Oliver had stolen from Thea. As the lid swung shut, Oliver looked up to see Diggle, staring at them with a knowing look.

Damn. Well, maybe he’d tell their mother and Moira would deal-

Someone bumped into him, and Oliver let out a startled “Oh- oh.” It was Laurel. “You’re here.”

“Tommy,” she nodded. “He made the point that we have too many years between us to- leave things the way we left them.”

She was beautiful. She had always been beautiful.

“Is there someplace quieter that we can go?”

“Yeah.” It came out just above a whisper. He put his hand on her back and led her up the stars, enjoying being able to touch her again, if only for a second.

As they walked on the landing above, Mikolas landed on the railing. Aksinya ignored him.

“I’m sorry about saying that you should have been the one that died,” Laurel began. The light of the globe above them reflected off her hair, giving an almost halo-like effect. “That was wrong.”

“If I could trade places with her, I would.”

Laurel’s mouth opened, looking almost shocked as she searched for words. She turned so she stood facing Oliver. “About Sara . . . there’s something that I’ve been afraid to ask, but I need to know.”

Her lips were a glossy pink. His heart raced, both for fear of her question and- another, significantly more passionate emotion. He worked to keep his features steady. “Okay.”

Laurel took a deep breath. “When she died,” she began. Her head cocked to side, studying Oliver intently. “Did she suffer?”

Oliver remembered the whorl of the vortex, Sara’s one short scream as she disappeared forever.

“No.”

Laurel exhaled. “I think about her everyday,” she admitted.

Oliver nodded. “Me too.”

Laurel smiled, a tentative thing. “Guess we still have one thing in common, then.” A pause, then: “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but if you need someone to talk to, about what happened to you, I’m here.”

She was breathtaking, her innate kindness making her more beautiful than any makeup could.

His phone buzzed, a harsh sound that cut through the sweet dream of Laurel’s presence.

Hunt’s time was up.

“Something wrong?” Laurel asked. The globe gave her face a sweet pink glow.

“I asked somebody to do something. They didn’t do it.”

Oliver looked at Laurel’s beautiful face. The concern in her eyes. She was a friend, could perhaps become something more again.

“Laurel.” He looked away. When he spoke again, he could hear the ice in his own voice. “You always saw the best in me. Right now, that’s what you’re doing. Looking at me, wondering if that island changed me somehow, made me a better person. It didn’t.”

Her face was confused, but guarded. Good.

“Stay away from me. Otherwise-” he leaned closer “-I’m just gonna hurt you again. This time it’ll be worse.”

Oliver backed away, contacting the inner Ollie. “Gotta roll. I got _five years_ of debauchery to catch up on.”

Laurel stood stock still. Mikolas took to the air behind him, darting forward on fast wings to land on his human’s shoulder. She didn’t seem to notice, didn’t tear her eyes away from Oliver. “You know what, Oliver.” She stepped forward, getting in his face. Her voice was low, angry. Betrayed. “You’re wrong. That island did change you. At least now you’re honest.”

She didn’t mention Aksinya’s transformation, didn’t look at the wolf that watched from the shadows.

Laurel Lance turned and left, the falcon curving through the air ahead of her. As the human left, his daemon stepped forward to stand by his side. She wouldn’t say anything about Laurel, Oliver knew. She focused on the bigger picture. “We need to go.”

Together, they stalked through the rental building, down the stairs, into the service corridors. He needed his bow, needed to hide Aksinya where nobody could find her. He had packed the specialized arrows, Oliver could get out through the roof-

“Something I could help you with, sir?”

And there was Diggle, fiddling with his cufflinks. The bear sat beside him, almost too fluffy looking to be dangerous.

Almost.

Oliver turned toward him. “I just wanted a second to myself.”

“Oh, I would believe you, Mr. Queen, if you weren’t so full of crap.”

Oliver nodded, unsurprised. Diggle extended his arm toward the door labeled “ballroom.” “Party’s this way.”

Oliver obliged him, tried the door.

And attacked.

Diggle quickly fell unconscious, the bear following suit before she could put up a fight, as all daemons had to. Aksinya put a paw on her huge chest. It seemed pitifully small in comparison. “Oh, great. Now we have to lug her around.”

Oliver sighed, already hoisting Diggle into a fireman’s carry.

.

The elevator doors dinged open, and Oliver shot the arrow, not pausing to see if it found its mark before leaping forward, hitting the two guards with the end of the bow and throwing it into the face of a third, hearing the choked yelp of a success. Feathers and fur flew as the daemons scrambled after their humans, golden Dust floating through the air as one dissolved; one of the guards was dead.

Oliver sprinted forward, kicking off against a column and tackling a guard to the ground, snatching up the bow as he did.

He took cover behind another column as another trigger happy guard sent a hail of bullets his way.

Oliver waited. The gunfire died. The guard was hesitating, looking for evidence of a kill in the darkness. He took a step forward.

Oliver lunged, shoving him around and into the decorative glass doors. More security inside took that one down.

He loosed an arrow, taking down another, and used his bow to strike down the last guard. Oliver turned toward Hunt, groped for that one particular arrow, fired.

“You missed,” panted Hunt. Oliver had to give him credit; he was calm, not pleading for his life.

“Really?”

Another guard, this one better trained, sprung from the shadows. This one took a while; he knew Hunt was running out, contacting backup. But Oliver had gotten what he wanted. Together, he and the guard slammed backward into a glass table, his adversary yelling in pain. Quickly, so not to lose his advantage, Oliver wrapped his legs around the man’s neck, squeezed and shoved him upward. His adversary gained his footing, but Oliver scrambled up, swinging his leg in a roundhouse kick before jumping forward, again getting his legs around his neck and slamming him down.

The guard bounced back up again; Oliver heard the tell tale _shing_ of a knife. He let him deflect off his body, sending the guard into a column. A vase shattered. But the guard turned, swung with the blade.

This was getting annoying; Oliver needed to _go_. More blocks, more punches. The guard fell into the shattered glass, scrambled at a fallen gun. Oliver sprinted toward the desk, threw an arrow back as the guard bellowed, sending bullets zipping into the air around Oliver.

Oliver hit his mark. He himself hit the ground and rolled, blackness overtaking him.

.

Oliver blinked awake.

Shit.

He rolled over, reaching for the bow not far from him. He fumbled with his leather armor and found a spent bullet. Ah, that explained why his ribs ached.

Light flickered over the office. The sound of many footsteps. “Lay down your weapons or we’ll open fire!”

Oliver scrambled onto his knees just as the police reached the smashed door. “I repeat, lay down your weapons!”

He shot an arrow toward them, and they skittered out of the way when it shattered the remaining shards of the door. Oliver bolted toward the last window and the escape route he’d had the wonderful forethought to install. Bullets hit the windows behind him, and he burst through the glass, ignoring the pain of impact.

Oliver twisted mid air, grasping for the line- yes, there it was.

Oliver flew.

.

Inane pop music played over the speakers of the ballroom as Detective Lance charged into the ballroom. Katlego kept pace with him, teeth bared. So close, he’d been _so close_. But this guy thinks he’s fucking Batman, so.

The music blessedly cut off as he reached the top of the escalators. “Search the building, roof to basement. Find him!” The SWAT officer nodded and disappeared back down the escalators, rottweiler in tow.

“Starling City Police! The party’s over, kids!”

The crowd booed and hissed as Lance stalked through the crowd with Hilton - ah, there he was.

“Oh, Mr. Merlyn, imagine my _shock_ at finding you here. DId you roofie anyone special tonight?”

Merlyn only grinned. The daemon on his shoulder bared her tiny teeth.

“Detective!” Queen appeared at Merlyn’s shoulder. The wolf sat down at his feet. “It’s a private party.”

“Yeah, well, there was an incident at Adam Hunt’s building tonight. You know anything about that?” Oh, how he hated this kid.

Queen’s face remained blank, bland. “Who’s Adam Hunt?”

“He’s a millionaire bottom feeder and I’m kinda surprised you aren’t friends.”

“I’ve been out of town for- a while.” Beside him, Merlyn gave another insincere smile.

“Yeah, well, he just got attacked by a guy with a hood. The guy that saved your ass the other day.”

“The hood guy?”

“Yeah-”

“You didn’t find him? I’m going to offer a reward.” Queen turned to the horde, lifting an arm into the air. “Hey, everybody, two million dollars to anybody who can find a nutbar in a green hood!”

The crowd whooped and whoo-hooed, lifting their drinks in the air in salute. The lights above flashed.

And suddenly, Lance was sick of this. Sick of Queen, sick of his games. Sick of having his daughters repeatedly screwed over by the guy.

Sick of Sara being dead.

He stepped forward, aching to wipe the triumphant expression off Queen’s face. Katlego snarled, trotting forward toward the wolf, tail up. “Did you even try to save her?”

Hilton tugged on his elbow, his German shepherd watching the honey badger with weary eyes. “Okay, let’s go, partner,” he murmured.

“Did you even try to save my daughter?”

Queen didn’t flinch, just watched Lance, his expression carefully blank.

“Sara wouldn’t want this,” hissed Hilton in his ear, pressing his hand to Lance’s chest and gently shoving him backwards.

Lance bared his teeth, opened his mouth-

“It’s _not_ worth it.”

Lance allowed Hilton to walk him away from Queen, murmuring platitudes. Katlego stayed, staring the wolf daemon down until her bond with Lance forced her to retreat.

As they neared, the door, Lance could hear Queen shouting out on the dancefloor. “It’s way too quiet in here, this is a party!”

.

The crowd roared in response to Oliver’s proclamation. The music started again, thumping throughout the building as the partygoers began to dance, waving their drinks in the air and grinding up against whoever was in reach.

Tommy watched his friend as Oliver jumped back down from the platform and moved back over to Tommy. Ulani squeaked in his ear, “Does this feel right to you?”

Tommy slowly shook his head. Nothing tonight had felt right. Not the party, not watching Laurel and Oliver, certainly not Lance’s appearance.

Oliver reached them, and Ulani fell silent, clambering down his arm to meet Aksinya on the ground. She had missed her best friend, and it was clear to Tommy that she wasn’t going to let go of her anytime soon.

He felt the same way about Oliver.

Oliver, his best friend in the entire world. No one came before him.

Except maybe Laurel, but Tommy pushed the thought away. She was _Oliver’s_ ex-girlfriend.

Back to the matter at hand.

“Some coincidence, I mean, you asking to have your party here, and Hunt getting robbed right next door, and by the _same_ guy who rescued us at the warehouse?” He let out an incredulous chuckle and sipped his drink.

Oliver leaned closer, his voice quiet but carrying above the din. “If I were you, Tommy, I’d just be glad you’re alive.”

He was smiling while he said it, but it felt so _wrong_. Tommy blinked at him, lowering his glass. _What-_

His eyes fell on Aksinya. The wolf. He had ignored it, considering it a fluke of nature, but-

“What- happened to you on that island?”

Oliver stared him down, and Tommy couldn’t see Ollie in them. Gone was the friendly smile, the eyes shining with mischief. “A lot.”

Oliver turned away from him, began to make his way through the mass of gyrating bodies. Aksinya followed. Tommy remained frozen to the spot, but Ulani darted after her friend, tugging lightly on her fur and begging quietly for her to wait. The wolf didn’t seem to notice.

Ulani hit the limits of their bond, and pain flashed through Tommy’s being as his daemon stood apart from him, crying softly after Aksinya and Oliver.

.

For days, the three person crew of the liferaft lived in a monochrome world of sea and sky. The endless black sea around them, the blanket of clouds above sapping away any bit of sunlight.

Oliver sat curled into his father, his fox equally dependent on Gituku, Robert’s dhole daemon. Their red fur was the only splash of color on the dreary seascape.

The captain of the _Queen’s Gambit_ \- Oliver couldn’t remember his name, and it felt rude to ask now - sat on the side of the raft, knife dangling from his fingertips. His albatross circled above.

Once the storm was clear, Oliver’s father had laughed up at the captain’s daemon, murmuring, “Oh, the irony.”

Oliver had no idea what Robert had meant, hadn’t bothered to ask.

Oliver woke from an uneasy sleep to his father’s voice in his ear. “There’s not enough for all of us.”

“Save your strength,” Oliver murmured back.   
“You can survive this,” Robert persisted, his voice still a whisper. “Make it home. Make it _better_. Right my wrongs.”

Oliver stared off into space. Aksinya shut her eyes tighter, trying to go back to sleep. Gituku poked her with her nose.

His father nudged him. “But you gotta live through this first.”

Oliver ignored him.

Robert nudged him again, harder this time, shaking Oliver back to consciousness. “You hear me Ollie? You hear me, son?”

Oliver blinked up at him, uncomprehending. “Just rest, Dad.”

He closed his eyes again. Robert was silent, and Oliver felt him kiss his forehead, prop him up against the side of the raft.

The _bang_ of a gunshot tore through Oliver’s sleepiness, he scrambled away from his father, heard the _splash_ of a body hitting the water.

The captain was gone, the albatross vanished.

Aksinya screeched and struggled away from Gituku, who regarded her calmly.

“Survive,” his father croaked.

Gituku licked Aksinya’s nose.

“ _No-_!”

Robert Queen pulled the trigger.

Gituku exploded into golden Dust.

.

~~ _Adam Hunt_ ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, this fic is mostly just for practice and getting used to writing, so I dunno when I'll update this. My interest in arrow comes and goes. And I definitely won't do every episode like this, just my fav scenes.   
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Oliver's Aksinya - common grey wolf (previously a common red fox). Moira's Demyan - arctic fox. Walter's Alis - European badger. Thea's Hadyn - common red fox. Tommy's Ulani - Capuchin monkey. Laurel's Mikolas - bat falcon. Johanna's Sango - meerkat. Sara's Mochni - Atlantic canary.  
> Diggle's Orsina - Asiatic black bear. Lance's Katlego - honey badger. Robert's Gituku - dhole.   
> Find me on tumblr under the same url!


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